did she say what i think she just said?

Oh, all this Paula Deen nonsense.  I really don't care what some butter-lovin', fake-tanned, southern-cookin' TV personality says.  (If y'all don't know what I'm talking about, and I only know about it because of the Daily Show, here's the scoop.)

The whole thing did remind me of one very important life-lesson that I learned...the hard way.

Where to start....  Well, I guess the beginning.  My grandmother was born in 1912 (a week before or after the Titanic went down - I can never remember which) and lived in a farming town in South Dakota.  They were extremely rural (she endured the Dust Bowl), and a little behind the times.  She was raised with certain...stereotypes...and used certain terms that in her mind were perfectly commonplace and not at all taboo.  She was raised with poems and songs from the time that she would recite around the house when she was cooking or cleaning, the same way we would sing along with any song we grew up with.  Here's an example of one of them (if you're offended by n-words, I suggest you don't click the link).  Yeah...  Brazil nuts were called "n----r toes" (sigh), and this was a book that I read quite often when I was at her place:

I remember this cover vividly.
It was much more tame than the original 1900's version.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not accusing her of being blatantly racist.  (Okay, she wasn't the most open-minded of individuals, but she wasn't out to be intentionally derogatory.)  She just didn't understand that the terms and phrases that used to be mainstream (right or not), had become quite offensive and were not to be used  - especially in public.  Especially especially around children.

On one occasion, after she had recited one of her childhood poems and because it was a word I had never heard before (because my parents knew it wasn't very nice), I asked her what that n-word meant.  She stated very simply that it was just another word for a black person.  Oh!  Well, okay then.  I was in grade school, my brain was a sponge, and I loved soaking up new words to impress people with.  Let's add this one to the list!

Flash forward a few months later to one of my parents' popular outdoor parties.  As everyone was on our lawn playing another round of killer croquet while downing sipping on bullfrog punch, my mother had donned some sort of wig stand head of a brownish color and put it on her shoulder to become a two-headed monster.  (Don't ask, I don't remember the details...I attribute it to the copious amounts of bullfrog punch.)
I said, "Wow, Mom!  Now you're a N----r!"

Her eyes widened, I think she actually stopped breathing for a moment.  My uncle, who was standing behind her, did a bullfrog punch spit-take and said, "Oohhhh, I think I'll go this way now..." backed up a few steps and high-tailed it back to the food, trying his hardest not to laugh.  After catching her breath and a bit of stammering, my mother tried keeping her voice at 7 instead of the 11 she really wanted and asked, "Where did you learn that word?"  I was very confused.  It didn't seem like a bad word to me, I mean my grandma said it a lot, so why were people reacting that way?  I told her very innocently and quietly that it was her own mother who gave me that new word.  She was not amused.  In fact, I believe after quickly telling me that that word was never to be used again because it's not a nice word at all, she sought out her mother and gave her a good what-for.  Luckily because of my complete innocence, I was spared from punishment.

It did made for quite a spectacle though, and I don't think I ever heard my grandmother say that word around me again after that.  Oh, there were plenty of other choice words, but that one was not one of them.  (Sometime I'll have to tell you about her hatred of George Michael.)

So, yeah.  There's my random flashback for no good reason.  Thanks a lot, Paula Deen!

lost in translation

Recently we had a very large Japanese group staying in the hotel that I work in.  In fact, they basically took every room in the place.  When I would venture into the lobby area, it would be filled with Japanese men in suits, speaking to each other in a language I did not understand at all.  Other than the few employees who were tucked away in a corner, I felt like I was the odd man out.  It seemed like, even though the surroundings were familiar, I was in a foreign country.  Like I could walk out of those doors and I'd be somewhere completely different.  Or maybe that's just what I was wishing for.



This feeling of disorientation was compounded by the fact that I the one friend that I had at work for the past 6 years had just moved away and I felt like I was stuck there alone.  My sense of normalcy was gone.  My routines blown.  My momentary escapes to his office to chat about upcoming movies or TV shows, or discuss work items that were pissing us off were no more.  He got out - I remained.  

I had my review and though it was a glowing review, my boss told me that she knows I'm not happy there sometimes. Asked if I'm looking for a new job and if so, what I would be looking for in this area. She knows there's not much out there. Another hotel? Another admin job? Something completely different? I had no answers. I don't have a direction. 



She said it's up to me to find my happiness here, which I know is true...if I want to stay.  If I want to cross-train in another department, do it.  If I want to change my job somehow, she's all for it.  She said I need to leave my office more - get out and make more friends in the hotel. The problem is, I've tried.  I have very little in common with the people I work with.  I've written about it before.  We don't have similar interests, they're either younger or older than I am, I don't care about fashion.  Sometimes it's like they're speaking a language just as foreign to me as the Japanese gentleman who were surrounding me in the lobby.

I know I need to make a change.  I need to figure out how.  I need to find a place where I fit, where I'm not walking among people I don't understand. And I'll have to do it on my own.

secrets

One of my Sunday morning routines is checking PostSecret.  When I first started following it, the posts were just the deepest, darkest secrets you could imagine from adults who were finally given an anonymous outlet where they could finally set these thoughts free and not have to worry about something being found in a diary or a friend letting it slip.  Now much of it has become the place for teenagers to share secrets about sex, drugs, cutting, etc.

I think we all have secrets that we keep inside that even our closest friends don't know.  Things we wish we could share with someone but fear the fallout, thoughts that we just can't shake, moments that have defined us that can't be spoken of.  Keeping some secrets inside can really eat away at you, so I suppose it's safer to send a postcard than to open up to someone who might judge you or decide it's okay to tell just one friend or in a moment of anger, use it against you.

I suppose I have a couple of them myself.  Can you guess what they are?

regression

Because I'm extremely frustrated, in need of an escape, have no money with which to do so, need a new job, wish the school year was over so I wouldn't have to force my kid to do homework without feeling the need to tie him to a chair to do so, yadda, yadda, yadda, I've found myself looking for items that I loved as a child.  Here are some that I've found that will hopefully bring a smile to your face as well.

Doesn't this just reek of being a kid - and not a bad reek, more like a bread was baking in the oven, but it's been sitting on the counter for a while kind of reek.

I played with this thing a ton!

And I was a Barbie freak.  I had this one - thought the astronaut by day/party girl by night outfit with shoulder-poufs the size of Alaska were something to aspire to.  "We girls can do anything!"

 

Zug-zug

White Nights - I've watched this movie hundreds of times and never tire of it.

I was also a Michael Jackson fanatic back in the days of Thriller, but looking back, I think my favorite album of his was Off The Wall.  It was him before he started going a little off-kilter.

Yup.  Had it.  Most of my "Ponies" were unicorns and pegasuses (or is it pegasi?)  Hard to stick a sunbonnet  on a unicorn.

And last but certainly not least.....

Our old pal, Grover.  Who didn't love Grover?  He was sweet, friendly, sometimes even Super.  He was the epitome of childhood innocence, 20x better than Elmo,

 and thankfully we never realized how similar his voice was to Yoda's.  

and on another note....

This picture was tweeted last week:

Huzzah! 

Football is coming back soon!

Happy Dance

my dream funeral

What?  Does that sound morbid?  Pick your jaw up off of the floor and let me explain.  I've already been through the wedding part of my life.  It was nice, simple, good enough for us.  We're not going to have another one - don't need a dream wedding, so what's the next major life event that gets a big gathering? (My son's life events don't count - those are for him)  I suppose it would be my funeral, wouldn't it?  Now, now...don't go getting into some sort of a tizzy, I'm in no way making light of loss.  (Of course, if you're sensitive to the topic, I would suggest you stop reading now as I don't want to accidentally offend anyone.)  Death is a part of life - sometimes it comes far too soon, but inevitably, it comes.  I might as well put my preferences out there for everyone to see.  It doesn't have to be uncomfortable - it can actually be quite pleasant.

The service will be pretty small, I'm sure.  We're in a small town, almost all of my friends have moved away, our family is spread out across the nation.  I guess it will just be at one of the local funeral homes since I'm not a church person.  And speaking of the whole not churchy thing...who would officiate?  Hmmm...that's a good question.  I wouldn't want to put any of my friends on the spot.  I'm going to have to put some thought into that.

Okay, during the beginning of the memorial service, as people are walking in, I want Mozart's Requiem to be played.  I guess it's fitting that one of my favorite pieces of music of all time is a death mass.  So beautiful, so dramatic, so powerful.  Just as the service is about to begin, they should be playing Lacrimosa.  This will be where they stop the Requiem.  It's not the official end, but it's where I've always wished it ended.


And right after the dramatic ending, I want everyone to be directed to pick up the hymnals that are inevitably right in front of them, and turn to a tv toward the front of the room, and participate along with the monks in this scene.

You see, though it might be a sad occasion, I still want people to smile and laugh and be thrown off guard in a good way.  I think Monty Python is the right way to go.   

I don't have any bible verses I want read (see reason above), my mind works in lines from movies and song lyrics.  I think people should come up and recite whatever they hear that makes them think of me.  Something that should have been my theme song, a line that is just so me that every time they hear it, I pop up in their mind automatically.  I'd absolutely LOVE that.
 

Throw in whatever else you want after that, but at the end of it all, I want the people there to participate in something I've always wanted to do...a big Hey Jude singalong!  Seriously!  Everybody knows the words...at least the end of the song.  Everybody sings along whether they originally want to or not.  It's like the "Five golden rings" part of the Twelve Days of Christmas.  You just inherently sing along with it - it's somehow crept into our DNA.  And the best part - everybody ends up smiling.  And that's how I want people leaving - SMILING. 

     

So, there you have it.  My dream funeral.  I'm sure it will change a bit as time goes on, but I want to keep the happiness factor the same no matter what.  One of my goals in life is to make as many people smile as I can, even if only for a moment.  I can at least try to do the same after I'm gone as well. 

Oh, and a word of warning - if you do attend and don't sing along, I'll be sure to haunt you for the next 5 years after that.
 

 

 

geektastic saturday

It was May 4th. 

(Okay, I started writing this post a looooong time ago and never got around to finishing it.  Sue me. 
No, don't.  I have no money.)

In geekdom, this is a sacred holiday.  It's Star Wars Day!  Why?  So all of us can go around posting "May the Fourth be with you" on Facebook, Twitter and every other annoyingly memeful social media outlet imaginable.  It was a day to don my Han Solo / James Bond mashup t-shirt (my favoritest shirt) and let my geek flag fly.


I bought this baby on riptapparel.com. 
Sorry, it was only available for a day.

This year, the day was doubly exciting for people because it was also Free Comic Book Day.  Now, I've never been a comic book person.  I mean, I might have had two when I was a kid, but I just never got into it.  My son has been into graphic novels ever since he learned how to read, but never really had access to comic books, so he was somewhat interested in going to get a few freebies to find out if it was something he'd like to get into. 

Sure, I'm game for new experiences - especially the ones with the word "FREE" in them.   

We headed out into the nearest comic store that was listed on the official Free Comic Book Day website and were greeted by two of the most stereotypical comic book "nerds" in the world.  They took one look at us, sighed, and said "Free Comic Book Day?"  I smiled and nodded.  They pointed to the back corner and said "Follow the path to the back corner."  Ooookay.  Thanks?

Per their directions, we followed the path to the back corner.  There we found wall displays of the latest issues of the standards - The Avengers, Superman, Wonder Woman, The Walking Dead, and a few anthologies for $35, and then there was a big bin of back issues that were 50% off.  A logical place to start, right?  Unfortunately there was no rhyme nor reason that we could see as to how they were arranged.  I'm sure there probably was some system, but being new to a store of this type, we couldn't see it.  Of course there was nobody there offering to help.  In fact it seemed like they hated this day for the very reason that it was created - exposing a new group of people to the immense world of comics. 

After digging around for a while, we finally decided on three back issues along with two of the free offerings.  The kid was sooo ready to get out of there. Apparently girls in bright pink wigs and men with bad BO who look like they live in basements aren't his cup of tea.  And neither are comic book stores. 

So, we bought our sampling of comics and went back home where I celebrated Star Wars Day with a movie marathon and he went back to his video games.  Geeks we are, but apparently not of the Comic Book Genus.

May the Force be with you....always.

the things that go through my head when i should be sleeping

I wonder how many spiders I'm going to end up swallowing tonight.

I've got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine...  Oh my god, make it stop!!!

What was that noise?  I can't get murdered tonight, I'm wearing my period underwear!

Too hot!  Blanket off.  Too cold!  Blanket back on.  Leg out.  Ahhhh....just right.

Hello, husband.  Thank you for repeatedly putting your elbow into my spine.  I do not need to sleep tonight.

So, if a fire broke out in-between my room and my son's room, would I be able to break through the wall to get to him?  These apartments were built pretty crappy.  Yeah, I could take that wall.

If my husband gave a free pass to be with any of the men that I swoon over (and they had to go along with it) who would I choose?  Do I choose by the mood I'm in?  Do I choose based on who I think would be the least repulsed by me?  Do I have to choose only one?  How can I only choose one?!

Oh man, are they fighting downstairs again?  What if they own a gun and it accidentally goes off and shoots one of us in our sleep? 

This is the song that doesn't end.  Yes it goes on and on my friend.  Some people started singing it not knowing what it was and they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that doesn't end.  Yes it goes on and on my friend.  Some people started singing it not knowing what it was...



Okay, if I fall asleep now, I could probably still get 5 hours and be okay tomorrow, right?  Who am I kidding.  I'm old.  I'll be able to pack for a month-long trip to the Alps in the bags that are going to be under my eyes.

I should really be sleeping right now.

appreciate an admin

Today is the day that my cohort in admin duties and I take bets as to whether or not the people around the office will remember Administrative Professionals Day (the holiday formerly known as secretary's day) tomorrow.

Once upon a time, we were treated to lunch out, alcohol and gifts.  As time went on we had lunch in, then a plant, then it was forgotten altogether and we were given "Oh crap!" gifts in the afternoon when a manager had time to go out and grab something quick from the local grocery store during her hour-and-a-half lunch break.  Last year, the two of us took ourselves out to lunch because we had no mention of the day at all...until someone asked us why we went out, word got around to our managers and someone ended up ordering flowers that arrived 2 minutes before we left for the day.  Look, it's not the gifts that matter, it's knowing that maybe for one day, for one moment, they'll say, "Hey...you're kind of helpful.  You do good work.  Thanks!"

If you're reading this and you know anyone who falls under the "Administrative Professional" title whether they're in your office, if you talk to them on the phone, or if they're a friend of yours, please take a moment tomorrow and thank them for what they do.  They probably don't hear it nearly as often as they should.

someecards.com always gets it right

drink up, tra la la!

Something I saw on the internet today that I had to share:

David Bowie's Package

This is a group game requiring at least two players, the more the merrier!
Anyone who has watched Labyrinth is aware that David Bowie (playing the Goblin King) is wearing tights that leave nothing to the imagination and frequently juggles crystal balls during this film.

• Whenever you see a little too much of what Bowie's packing, shout "David Bowie's Package!" The last one to shout must drink.
• Whenever Bowie starts juggling the crystal balls, shout "He's playing with his balls again!" The last one to shout must drink.
• If you call "David Bowie's Package!" or "He's playing with his balls again!" incorrectly you must drink instead.
• Optional extra rule: whenever a character who is not played by Bowie starts a song, shout "Stop that infernal racket!" The last person to do so must drink. This only counts if the first person to sing is not Bowie.
  • If you call "Stop that infernal racket!" and Bowie was the first one to start singing, you have displeased the Goblin King: drink until the song ends.

I think this is a great excuse to have a party, don't you?